


Thinking with the Heart

by Nomader



Series: Partners [7]
Category: Laramie (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Grief, M/M, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28070013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nomader/pseuds/Nomader
Summary: When Jess sets out to take Slim's place on a potentially dangerous mission, grief for an old friend is the underlying motivation. Both conflict and caring will influence the outcome. How can their differences about truth be reconciled? And how deep is the trust of the heart?
Relationships: Jess Harper/Slim Sherman
Series: Partners [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1255892
Comments: 8
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Thinking with the Heart**

Nomader

Foreword : This is an m/m story, as indicated in the Archive Warnings. If it is not how you think about _Laramie,_ please don’t read it: I would like you to enjoy your view of the show and not get upset. This is for those whose imagination swings the other way. It is strictly about fictional characters and is not intended to reflect on the original actors.

* * *

_‘_ Your heart and your instincts are far more reliable than your brain.

When you follow your heart, you can be sure you won't regret it later _.’_

_Nithya Menen_

#  **1**

\- ‘ _A very reliable young lady’_? –

Slim Sherman’s eyebrows climbed towards his hairline as the passengers left the first stage of the day from Cheyenne for some rest and refreshment at the Sherman Relay Station. Jess Harper had assured everyone involved in protecting the shipment of the money and payroll from Denver that it would arrive safely in the custody of a reliable young lady. On receipt of this information, Slim had not quite envisaged what kind of young lady or how Jess could possibly know she was reliable.

Now Slim was assisting the descent of a homely, buxom matron, whom imagination might label ‘young’ if her robust health was anything to go by, a haughty-looking blonde dressed in the height of fashion whose profession did not require much guessing, and a pale, slim, plain girl dressed in severe black mourning, who with her bowed head and a gentle, hesitant manner seemed scarcely more than a child.

_\- It must be one of them? But which? –_

Jess was busy supervising Andy, who was dealing with the harness as they changed the team together. The pair of them made a cheerful team themselves, despite Andy keeping a wary eye on Jess’s injured arm. Although the Texan had appeared demurely enough in his sling at the breakfast table, it was now slung over his shoulder in a cavalier fashion, as he took his usual role of cajoling and soothing the restless horses. It was a good job Jonesy was fully occupied in the kitchen! While Jonesy was not noticing Jess, Jess himself took absolutely no notice whatsoever of the passengers. No help at all, in fact!

Slim’s betting was on the haughty blonde, since she seemed most likely to have crossed Jess’s path in a manner sufficiently intimate to warrant some degree of trust and she looked hard-bitten enough to take on a certain amount of danger. On the other hand, she also looked like a woman who would be more interested in acquiring money than protecting it: self-service was written visibly on her experienced features. Either Jess was a hypnotist or their relationship was considerably more intimate than Slim wanted to contemplate. If this woman settled for anything, it would be a man who would support her in the style to which she was evidently accustomed. Slim tried to imagine her living at the ranch and gave a quickly suppressed shudder.

\- _But it can’t be either of the other two, surely? Would you entrust so much money to a homesteader’s wife or a child? On the other hand, would you entrust it to a rapacious saloon girl looking for the nearest chance? –_

Baffled, Slim escorted the ladies politely inside, leaving the three men in the coach to follow. He tried not to allow any trace of his current perplexity to appear on his face. Fortunately the events of the previous day had given him plenty of practice. Conversation around the table was desultory and concerned mainly the rigours of the journey and the relief the passengers would experience when they finally arrived in Laramie. The men talked of their business there. The three ladies were more reticent, although the matron, Mrs Mollie Hernshaw, did mention some family connections in the town. She also introduced her travelling companions to her hosts. The young girl was Emily Andersen and the haughty blonde apparently rejoiced in the name of Selina Deveraux.

\- _And what’s the betting that’s not her real name? –_ Slim asked cynically but silently.

Which led him to considering how Jess also seemed to have more than one name. Jess Doran? Slim needed to challenge him on this in case it entangled them in more lies and deception. But when the stage departed, still with no hint of who was responsible for its precious cargo, Jess was nowhere to be found.

“He ’n Andy took some grub,” Jonesy informed him when he asked. “Went over to the south ridge. Gonna count the stock there an’ check the brands. Jess was still wearin’ his sling.”

“Was he indeed?” Slim was not sure if this observation was meant to reassure him or send him hot-foot after Jess to haul him back to rest at home. The work was part of what Slim had had planned for the two of them to do the day Jess had to leave for Denver. Jess was obviously bent on making good his promise to give satisfaction in his discharge of his responsibilities and duties.

\- _Satisfaction?_ – Why did the word make Slim feel unexpectedly uneasy?

He shook his head and went over to the barn to check that Jess and Andy had been able to complete the rubbing down of the horses from the stage team, plus watering and feeding them. All was in impeccable order. Afterwards there was plenty of work to do in the forge, where numerous items had accrued over the last few weeks while Jess had been away in Rock Springs and Slim had been hard put to keep up with the routine work.

\- _Not going to think about Rock Springs! That’s done and past. –_

But he remembered how different it had felt knowing he would welcome Jess back to the ranch, whatever he had been up to. At least, he had thought so at the time. It contrasted vividly with the horrible feeling of loss which had possessed him when he had deliberately sent Jess away to Denver.

\- _You said you’d take a chance on him. Well, now’s your own chance to show what you mean by it! -_

The only problem was that you couldn’t show you trusted someone who wasn’t there. Slim was unreasonably annoyed by this. He was beginning to feel he was rapidly losing his normal even temper and being possessed by emotions which were much more volatile. He was not at all sure he liked this and was determined not to admit to it either. Consequently when he came in for some food at midday, he merely remarked that he hoped Jess was taking good care of Andy and making sure he learnt how to do the job properly.

Jonesy scowled at him. “Andy’ll learn from Jess ‘cause Jess trusts him,” he observed bluntly.

This was another blow to Slim’s already disquieted feelings. He sensed Jonesy understood that relations between employer and employee had yet to return to what they were before – if they even could – but he was determined not to discuss it. Instead he said, “Can’t think why Jess’s taken fencing gear with him. He’s not going to achieve much with just a kid to help him, never mind the injured arm.”

“Tarnation!” Jonesy growled. “That boy ain’t got any sense. He’s gonna try t’ do what you expect, even if he ain’t got another man t’ work with him. An’ it sure ain’t gonna do that arm any good when he tries!”

Slim sighed resignedly. “Okay. I’ll go and help him.”

“Go an’ stop him!” Jonesy ordered. “He’ll ‘ve done enough damage already!”

Therefore Slim, having prepared the team for the afternoon stage so the crew could carry out the change, found himself astride Alamo and heading south much against his expectations. If Jonesy was concerned about Jess’s arm, it was as well to take him seriously. It wasn’t Jess’s dominant arm, as far as Slim knew, but permanent damage would do him no favours, wherever he worked.

\- _But he’s going to work here! –_ Slim found himself suddenly resolved about this, even if he could not yet entirely reconcile in his own mind their differences on the matter of truth. His heart felt a lot lighter all of a sudden.

This was just as well, since he did not find Jess and Andy hard at work. Instead they were lying at their ease in a sheltered hollow under the shade of a tree. They were leaning against the saddles they had taken off their horses, which were hobbled nearby. The small herd they had come to check was grazing peacefully on the slopes below. Either they had carried out the task very efficiently or they had been lazing about at their ease all morning and hadn’t even started.

Andy sprang to his feet with a delighted cry when he saw Slim and picked up his saddle immediately. He hurried to greet his brother, giving a brisk and clear account of the state of the herd as soon as he was at Slim’s stirrup. Jess seemed perfectly content to let Andy take responsibility for the morning’s work and just carried on smoking quietly.

“I’ll show you which ones need branding,” Andy said as he hastened to saddle Flash.

Slim looked down at Jess.

Jess was lying back against the slope, propped up by his saddle. His left arm was resting in the sling as if it had never been out of it – which Slim betted was a complete illusion. Otherwise he looked almost exactly as he had the day they first met. From his dusty black boots to the broad shoulders and chest under his faded blue shirt and the worn pants clinging tightly to slim hips and hard-muscled thighs. Jonesy’s good feeding had taken away most of the gauntness from his lean frame and a formidable power was even more apparent in the sleek, sinewy hardness, like the muscles rippling under a wild stallion’s hide. Slim knew now exactly how capable this man was of extricating himself from trouble by sheer confidence and quick thinking.

“Stay right where you are!” he ordered, bearing in mind Jonesy’s worries and not at all the fact that the latent wildness and power in Jess’s relaxed sprawl was extremely attractive.

Jess grinned up at him, remembering the words, though Slim was once again totally unaware of his reaction to them. Instead he just stubbed out his cigarette, tipped his hat over his face and remarked, “Ain’t gettin’ a crick in m’ neck again.”

“Yes. You can keep your hands down this time.”

A chuckle came from under the hat, where the Texan was, to all appearances, settling down for a quiet snooze. “Andy’ll tell y’ all y’ need t’ know.” There was quiet pride and assurance in his voice, which made Slim thoughtful. Jess knew he had taught Andy well and, as Jonesy had pointed out, trusted the boy to do a good job. Together Jess was obviously sure they were going to deliver satisfaction.

\- _Satisfaction? -_ That word again! Slim was strangely reluctant to use it, but at the same time he wanted Jess to know he was being deemed worthy and so trusted.

“Thanks!” Slim put all his feelings into the single word.

Jess tipped the brim of his hat and tipped his boss a wink. “My pleasure!”

“Just stay there!” Slim ordered as he walked over to Andy, who was now mounted up. To the boy he just said, “Let’s go.”

As he rode away, his mind was turning over Jess’s response. - _Did he mean he was glad to be back at the ranch? Or that he had enjoyed the morning’s work? Was he happier in Andy’s company? Did he take pleasure in carrying out Slim’s wishes? Did he like giving satisfac ..._ –

Jess watched the brothers ride away from under the brim of his hat. He was smiling. The smile grew broader as he mentally replayed Slim’s orders, delivered in no uncertain manner from on high. The rancher was definitely totally unaware of Jess’s view of the strong legs with which he was controlling his mount automatically, not to mention the effect this was having on Jess himself. Then Jess heaved a sigh. He’d made a resolution. He was going to have to stick to it if he wanted any kind of meaningful relationship with Slim. They had enough to work out between them without bringing sex into it.

He closed his eyes, ignored his throbbing arm, and set about snatching a catnap while he could. Unfortunately throbbing elsewhere meant his body had other ideas, ideas about which he could do absolutely nothing when their stimulus so near at hand.

**> >>>> * <<<<<**

With Slim’s two hands to help, the fencing which Jess and Andy had not been able to manage was relatively easily fixed. Andy took his part in the work enthusiastically and Slim was once again forced to reconsider his protective attitude to his brother. This was helped by focusing on the need to protect Jess instead. Or at any rate, protect him from himself as far as possible.

“You are, without doubt, the most ornery, stubborn son of a burro I’ve ever met!” Slim declared when they had finished to job. He had made a fruitless attempt to keep Jess out of the work altogether.

“You only just discoverin’ that?” his employee grinned. “I like t’ finish a job.”

“Yeah, I know. So it’s finished now. Let’s go home.” The words he’d said when Jess came back from Rock Springs. Once again Slim tried to make clear how he sincerely felt.

It was good to be riding back together, the three of them, driving a small bunch of young stock which Andy had identified. Andy was rightly jubilant at being given responsibility and his happy glance kept flicking from Slim to Jess and back again. Slim felt as if he had been part of this achievement, even though the credit was almost entirely Jess’s, a bit like the defeat of the payroll robbery. Andy was also obviously really tired. Slim had always made him finish his tasks and take care of his mount, but this time he was tempted to send the boy inside and do the work himself. As he thought this, Jess caught his eye. There was a distinct gleam in Jess’s, which suggested Slim accord Andy the dignity of treating him like an adult capable of settling his own horse.

So, once they’d corralled the cows, they dismounted in the yard and led their horses into the barn. Without being asked, Andy left Flash in his stall and moved swiftly to help Jess lift the heavy saddle off Zig.

“That’s better, Traveller!” Andy murmured, his voice low and quiet, as if he was trying to imitate Jess’s soothing murmur to their equine charges.

“Thanks, Andy!” Jess let the boy take the saddle and put it away, but his eyes met Slim’s again and his lips lifted in an understanding smile. It seemed he knew that Slim had been just about to come to his aid and had, uncharacteristically, let Andy take the lead. Better for the self-respect of all parties.

Andy gave the bay horse a hearty pat before returning to attend to his own mount. Brushing down, watering and feeding were things Jess could manage with only one hand, even if he was a touch slow. This did not impede them much and soon they made their way back to the house and some welcome coffee. They’d barely got in through the door before Jonesy was putting cups and a fresh pot on the table for them

“Figured y’d need the coffee, seein’ as Jess’s been out o’ reach of it all day!”

“Thanks, Jonesy!” Jess’s was not the only voice, but one of a chorus of three.

They had just settled at the table, however, when Jonesy joined them with some unexpected news. “Message came from the bank manager on the afternoon stage. Wants t’ see you and Jess for supper tonight. Something about congratulatin’ you?”

Slim hesitated. He knew full well it was Jess’s quick mind and inventive tongue which had saved the day. “No, I’m not needed.”

“Y’ ain’t needed here, that’s f’ sure,” Jonesy corrected him implacably. “I only cooked enough for Andy ‘n me, so if you and Jess wanna get fed, y’d better wash up and git goin’. Jess ain’t fit t’ ride fast.”

Slim looked at Jess, who raised an eyebrow and remarked, “It’s nothin’.”

Jonesy snorted. “Lemme look at that arm, boy!”

When he had done so, applied some more salve and rebandaged the wound, the old healer told him severely, “Y’d be better off in the wagon, but I guess y’ ain’t gonna give y’ consent t’ Slim drivin’ y’ like a gentlewoman.”

Jess chuckled. “Too right. Don’t give him ideas he ain’t suppose t’ have.”

Slim was about to say that he’d seen Jess be gentle enough with things which needed it, but caution made him hold his tongue. Instead he said, “Okay, so you ride - there and back! Let’s get cleaned up.”

It wasn’t until they were washing in the hot water Jonesy had provided that Slim wondered how Jess felt about dining with the bank manager and whether he was anxious about having suitable clothes. He need not have worried. Clean shirts for both of them had been ironed and were hanging on the end of the bunk beds. In addition, Jonesy had obviously steamed and brushed Jess’s jacket, which, being a good quality buckskin originally, would not now disgrace him in respectable company.

All the same, Jess exhibited characteristic independence. “I ain’t wearin’ a tie!”

Slim scowled and decided it was time he took a heavier hand. “Jonesy’s cleaned you up nice. You’re wearing a tie!” He held it out challengingly.

Jess muttered something under his breath. It might have been “Durn’d respectable Yankee landowner!” Or then again, it might not. Slim ignored the comment and Jess, with every indication of extreme loathing, tied the tie.

“Satisfied?”

Slim’s breath hitched and Jess gave a barely audible groan. Between them, the air seemed to flicker with an unvoiced but potent meaning. They were eye to eye and utterly still.

Moments, which felt like hours, passed before Jess gave himself a little shake, almost a shudder. “Ain’t gallopin’ all the way there, so we’d best get started.”

“Put that sling on!” Slim reminded him tartly.

This was just as well, since Jonesy would not have let Jess leave the house without it. As it was, the old cook stood on the porch, arms folded and a scowl on his face which threatened retribution if he caught Jess putting more strain on the arm.

“I ain’t liftin’ anything heavier ‘n a fork,” Jess reminded him with a grin. “Not unless he’s aimin’ t’ weigh us down with gold bars, in which case, I shall just have t’ grin and bear it.”

Jonesy ignored this quip and retorted, “Don’t go gallopin’ neither. You keep him goin’ sober, Slim!”

Slim solemnly agreed to this responsibility, adding that he wouldn’t let Jess drink too much either, despite everyone knowing he’d be hard put to make Jess do anything he hadn’t chosen to do. With this commitment, they set out to get their supper. A gentle lope as far as Laramie and a short walk from the Livery Stable brought them about an hour or so later to the bank manager’s front door.

Mr Simpson was evidently on the look-out for them. The door was flung open at once and they were welcomed in with scarcely a moment to take off their hats. They deposited these in the hall along with their gun-belts and Jess’s sling on the grounds that he couldn’t eat politely one-handed – or so he said. Then they were ushered into the big drawing room, where they found quite a crowd awaiting them. There was the local manager of the stage line, the Sheriff, the deputy manager of the bank and the chief cashier, as well as Mr Simpson’s wife and his daughters. They had scarcely crossed the threshold when one of the girls gave a cry of delight.

“Uncle Jess!” She flew across the room and enveloped the Texan in a big hug. “Mr Simpson wasn’t sure you’d make it, but I said you’d never let an injury stop you. Not unless you were unconscious or had a broken leg.”

“Less of the uncle, Ermintrude!” Jess retorted, returning the hug with as much vigour as his injured arm would allow. “Was more’n a day riding through Utah with a broken leg.”

Slim started a little as he registered this further evidence of Jess’s stubborn will, but Ermintrude, if it was indeed her name, just shrugged and snapped right back.

“Don’t call me that!”

“You gonna stop callin’ me uncle?”

Slim stood baffled, along with the rest of the company. On a second look it was clear the girl was not one of Simpson’s daughters after all. She was in fact none other than Emily Andersen, though she was almost unrecognisable in a pretty dress, with ribbons in her curling black hair, discreet make-up and no sign whatsoever of any sombre mourning about her person. She was no child either, but a lively young lady a few years younger than Jess himself and, with her sharp-planed face, dark brows and determined jaw, bore a striking resemblance to him.

This was less surprising once Jess disentangled himself from the hug and presented her to Slim. “This is my second cousin, Eustacia Ermintrude Angelica Madigan. But since she ain’t keen on the full handle, she mostly answers to Stacie.”

“Pleased to meet you again, Miss Stacie.” Slim recovered enough to shake hands politely. “I’m sorry you had to get involved in such a risky business.”

The girl threw back her head and laughed. “It’s always risky around Uncle Jess!”

“Will y’ give over!” Jess protested.

“So, if you’re cousins, you must have known Jess a long time?” Mrs Simpson inquired tactfully. Like many other female citizens of Laramie, she was delighted to have some more information about Slim Sherman’s mysterious employee.

“All our lives,” Stacie confirmed.

“An’ that’s why I knew I could trust her,” Jess explained. “Not t’ mention the fact that she’s no mean actress.” He put his good arm round her shoulders and gave her another gentle hug. “Thanks, Stacie. I owe y’.”

“I’ll make sure you pay me back,” she told him with a smile. “I charge a big fee for performances these days.”

“You’re really an actress? On the stage?” Slim gulped.

“Sure am. You thought I was just a kid, didn’t you?”

“Sure did,” he had to admit. “You certainly fooled me.”

“And everyone else, thank goodness!” Simpson agreed. “The money is safely in the bank, which is what we’re here to celebrate.” Turning to his wife, he requested, “If supper is ready, may we go in, my dear?”

The supper was much more formal and elaborate than the simple fare they ate every day at the plain bare table in the ranch-house. Despite a life on the trail which must have been spent in some pretty rough places, Jess was completely unperturbed in this new setting. He was seated between Stacie and one of Simpson’s daughters and proceeded to flirt lightly with the pair of them. The affection between the cousins, or rather second cousins, was obvious, even though there was a good deal of teasing as well. Simpson’s daughter was enjoying the company too, and was eventually emboldened to ask the question which was still at the back of everyone’s minds.

“I’ve just got to know – why does Stacie call you ‘uncle’?”

Jess’s eyebrow quirked and he turned to Stacie with a slightly wry grin. “Are you gonna tell it or am I?”

“Me!” Stacie said promptly. “I tell a much better tale than you do.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Jess told her with a resigned shrug. “Get on with it, then.”

“Once upon a time, there was some lovely children -“ Stacie began.

“Cut it out!” Jess interrupted. “Sure ain’t no fairy tale.”

“Okay. The unvarnished version. Our families lived close together in Texas. There were several branches of the family, so we had a lot of uncles. One day Jess came over to our place and he was in a terrible temper because one of his uncles ...”

Stacie paused. A fleeting expression of concern and pain crossed Jess’s face, almost too swiftly to register, except that Slim was watching him closely.

“One of his uncles,” the girl continued, “had the temerity to tell Jess he had to do something and what’s more, made him do it.” She looked round her audience and added, “In case you haven’t realised this about Jess already, that is a really bad idea. He was so mad. He was raging against uncles and swore when he grew up, he’d never behave that way to his nephews and nieces, he’d be much kinder.”

Jess had regained his admirable poker face, but it softened as Stacie said this and he nodded for her to go on.

“So I said, if he was going to be kinder, he could be my uncle and be nice to me. And he has been, ever since.”

Chuckles ran through the company, causing Jess to scowl. “I think y’ ought t’ tell them I was somewhere about six at the time! An’ you weren’t much more’n a toddler.”

“I guess that’s why the title kind of stuck,” Stacie grinned. “And you still lose your temper, Jess, quicker than lightning if anyone tries to push you around.”

Jess made no reply to this. He seemed lost in recollection for several seconds. Around him conversation resumed and his silence was lost in the general chatter. Talk turned to other attempted robberies and how they had been foiled, or not as may be, but Jess kept totally quiet about his own role in thwarting this particular example. He might have confided in Slim and the crew how he had managed to fool the gang, but he obviously had no intention of discussing it any further and simply turned the conversation into other more general channels.

Presently, however, Mr Simpson came back to the reason he had invited Slim and Jess to supper. It was to show his appreciation, since neither the bank nor the stage line could give any reward for what they had done.

“You see, the money was not actually stolen. Thanks to Jess here and Miss Stacie, the robbers never had it in their possession.”

“It was always on or in company property,” the Overland manager explained, “so technically there can’t be a finder’s fee.”

“Y’ mean we did ourselves out of a reward?” Jess exclaimed in mock horror. “Darn! I knew I should just have let them steal it. Slim would’ve been on their trail like a one-man huntin’ wolfpack. He’d ‘ve got it back for you too!”

This was said with a grin and a nod in Slim’s direction. Slim shook his head, but Jess just winked and told him, “Yes, y’ would. With your sense o’ justice an’ y’ responsibility to the Overland y’ ain’t ever gonna let a bunch like Stronberg’s get away with using the crew like that.”

Slim nodded slowly. If Jess had not already planned how to circumvent the theft, he would certainly have tried, although he was not at all sure that without Jess’s inventive lying they would not all have ended up dead.

“That’s true!” the Overland manager agreed. “We can’t actually give you boys a reward, but you can expect some unexpected bonuses to be coming your way.”

This joke raised a general laugh and, on that note, the company broke up for the night amid cheerful farewells. Stacie was staying with the Simpsons before heading back to Denver on the morning stage so this was not their final goodbye to her. Slim and Jess rode home at a gentle pace, partly out of respect for Jess’s arm, but mainly because speed would be foolhardy in the dark, however good their night-sight was. They were relaxed and well-fed and Jess was disinclined to spoil this by discussing the next day’s work, however much Slim’s mind was planning ahead. Instead he made clear his success in foiling the robbery was in no small part due to the fact that Stacie was performing in Denver and staying at the same hotel as Jess and the crew.

“In the end,” he concluded thoughtfully, “y’ best trustin’ people y’ know by heart. People who know you well enough t’ be willin’ to take the same risk as you.”

Slim thought about the intimacy this implied and it occurred to him that second cousins were not forbidden to marry. “Must be nice to meet up with a childhood sweetheart again?”

“Sweetheart?” Jess shot an affronted look at Slim, then relented and chuckled, “Partners in crime more like. No, we’re too much cut from the same hide t’ be good together – she could be a sister to me, despite her bein’ named Madigan. The good Lord knows what the kids would have turned out like!”

“Oh!” There was a pause. Because it was dark enough to hide any embarrassment and Jess seemed in a communicative mood, Slim asked, “So you never thought of marrying?”

“Not while I’ve got a fast horse!” Jess quipped. “I told y’ – I like t’ be my own boss.”

“Guess you’ll have to put up with me, at least for tomorrow!” Slim smiled in response.

“Yeah. Guess I can do that,” Jess told him softly.

It was probably as well Slim could not see his expression. Instead he found himself reflecting on where Jess placed his absolute trust.

\- _On people you know by heart._ -

Slim found himself wanting that. Wanting it with a fervour which surprised him.

\- _But does Jess want to know you so well? –_


	2. Chapter 2

#  **2**

“Here y’ are Slim.”

Jonesy handed Slim a plate of supper.

“Come on, Jonesy!” Slim waved a hand at his own plate and cast a meaningful glance at Jess’s.

The cook doled out another couple of spoonsful. “We may have t’ change your name”

Jess concealed a grin behind the food he was busy forking into his mouth. Slim had hardly started and Jess was well on his way to a second helping. All the same, he was not leaving the table to get it just yet. He kept eating, moderately slowly considering how hungry he was. His attention, for once, was more on the company than the food.

It was some ten days after the Stronberg affair and the arrival of the Laramie Sheriff in the company of one Captain Reeves of the United States Army when most folk were busy having their supper was reason enough to draw Jess’s attention from his own. He had only encountered Sheriff Bartlett during the Simpson’s supper party and very briefly over the capture of Bud Carlin and his gang. Bartlett’s arrest of Pete Morgan had set in motion the events which had drawn Slim and Jess together, so Jess had a certain amount of reason to be grateful to him. In addition the man deserved credit for the arrest as it had challenged Carlin’s reputation for looking after his own. Jess’s recent experiences as a deputy in Rock Springs had left him with a less jaundiced view of the law than before, but he did not know this Sheriff and was prepared to be wary. He kept quiet, kept on eating, and kept watch on the proceedings.

Bartlett knew Slim well, that much was evident. “Slim, I guess you remember the Choctaw Johnson gang?”

Slim’s response was revealing. He heaved a half sigh, his face changing immediately from a keen interest in his food to a kind of serious blankness. “You know I do. They killed Smokey. $200 on that stage and they killed him for it.”

\- _Smokey? Nickname, for sure. Friend too, if his expression’s anythin’ to go by. –_ Jess reasoned to himself.

“I have one of them in jail.”

Slim had been staring across the table, lost in recollection. He turned sharply to the Sheriff. “Is he the one that did it?”

“No, I don’t think so. This one’s called the Judge. He only uses a shotgun.”

“A bullet got Smokey.”

Jess could sense how painful the memory was for Slim, even though the rancher kept his voice even and his expression steady. He admired the self-control the man displayed. He was curious to know what was going on and why the Sheriff had come all the way out to the relay station to talk to Slim about it.

More details revealed how the gang had been both greedy and ruthless. – _Show me a gang that ain’t! –_ Jess’d mixed with enough of them to know. He seemed to recall running across Choctaw Johnson in a saloon somewhere down south, although the man appeared to be alone at the time.

“Well, there were four men in the gang besides Choctaw. They were definitely tied up to six robberies, totalling at least $41,000.”

Jess gave a silent whistle. – _Maybe Bartlett’s formin’ a posse t’ go after them? -_

Jonesy immediately put paid to this idea. “I remember. Two of them were caught. Another pair were wounded but got away, but the leader, Choctaw, he pulled out without a scratch.”

“They worked wagons, trains, banks, even an Army payroll. That’s why I’m here.” Captain Reeves suddenly spoke up from where he was lounging against the mantlepiece behind Jess. Jess took a big gulp of coffee, determined to keep acting as normal. He had had very ambivalent relations with the US Army.

\- _Losin’ that amount o’ money ain’t gonna please them none!_ _Pretty obvious it wasn’t found on the ones they arrested._ –

Jess looked round sharply at the Captain and went straight to the point. “You think they hid it somewhere in this area?” He kept his gaze fixed on the man, but in his peripheral vision he was acutely aware that Slim had not reacted at all. He was still staring hard across the table, staring at a vision no-one else could see.

“The big question is, if it is hidden around here, why doesn’t he just go get it?” Sheriff Bartlett asked.

Jess’s eyes closed momentarily as he thought of all the reasons for a member of a gang to be cautious in trying to pick up loot single-handed. Then he grinned, “Maybe he’s gettin’ up a grub stake.”

The two representatives of the law made it clear the Judge had been drinking heavily and was in no fit state to organise or pay for anything. Jess had been joking anyway. He knew that an outlaw, even one newly released from jail, would not advertise his intentions by anything so obvious as mounting a well-equipped expedition. There had been no signs of the Judge joining up with rest of the gang either. If he was not collecting the loot or meeting his partners, why had he come to Laramie at all?

“That’s a good question Mr Reeves.” Slim proved he had been listening despite his preoccupation. “You got an answer?”

It was the Sheriff who replied. “Not yet, Slim. We figured you might get one for us.”

Jess caught himself in the act of tensing. Outwardly he remained cool. Inwardly he was deeply uneasy about what the Sheriff and the Captain were implying.

“How?”

Slim’s demand hung like a question mark in the air.

\- _He ain’t gonna be railroaded into anything without hearing the full facts_ , - Jess reassured himself.

“He’s been trying to hire a guide. We figured maybe that could be you.”

“You might be in a position to lead the Judge to the money.”

As Reeves and Bartlett spoke almost together, Jess found his own questioning look towards them was linked with Slim’s as they both appraised this suggestion.

“Alright, I’d like to help, if I can, but if he’s as sharp as his reputation, he’s gonna see right through me.”

\- _He sure is! –_ Jess thought wryly, but fondly nonetheless. Slim was about as honest as you could get. – _Can’t see y’ actin’ out an untruth, no matter how urgent the need is. –_

“Not if he thinks you’re as unsavoury a character as he is,” Reeves pointed out. “When he wakes up, you’ll be in the next cell to his.”

Jess watched Slim anxiously. This request could put him into serious danger: he was vulnerable not because he was incompetent or afraid but because he was honest.

Slim, however, thought rapidly, then nodded. “All right, let’s give it a try.”

“Won’t work. Not with Slim,” Jonesy’s blunt statement echoed Jess’s own fears and with equally cogent reasoning. “He’s lived here all his life. Everybody knows him. Maybe the Judge has been through here and seen Slim before.”

Bartlett nodded thoughtfully. “You’ve got a point, Jonesy.”

“You don’t think for one minute the Judge’s partners in crime are gonna let him pick up that money an’ walk off with it, do y’? I bet you they’re hangin’ around here keepin’ an eye on the Judge an’ maybe one of them’d recognise Slim.”

Jess couldn’t have agreed more with Jonesy’s shrewd and practical reasoning. So did the Sheriff: “No argument there. I can’t let you do it, Slim.”

“Now look –“

“I’m y’ man, Sheriff.”

Slim and Jess spoke simultaneously. But Jess had more to say and a more convincing argument, even if he was responding almost by reflex in order to prevent Slim taking a risk which would most likely result in nothing but his own probable death.

“I’ve only been around here a while.” Jess gave a quick look at Slim, who had gone blank and serious again. “If any of this bunch have run into me before, it was someplace else.” A sudden grin lit up Jess’s face as he thought back along the trails he had ridden. “Probably doin’ something I shouldn’t.” He flicked a quick look at Slim at the end of this, because the good Lord knew he needed Slim to accept such aspects of his past.

“You know this country around here?” Reeves asked.

“Sure. I been taggin’ after Slim for months. Think I know it pretty well as good as he does.” He didn’t bother to explain that this was scarcely surprising, since his tracking and guiding skills were excellent, honed by scouting for the US Army no less.

Slim was looking directly at Jess now, eye to eye. Something passed between them – something which surprised them both.

“Oh no you don’t,” Slim objected. “You’ve no reason to stick your neck out. Smokey was my friend and I –"

“Don’t go cuttin’ any bullets out of me until I get shot,” Jess warned him.As Jess spoke across Slim’s protestations, there was a simple thought in his mind. – _It ain’t helpin’ him t’ remember how Smokey died. Leave alone what happened with Stronberg. Gotta find another better reason ... -_

The reason hit Jess like a bolt of lightning and he turned his attention to the Army’s representative. “Besides, there’s somethin’ else at stake here – like that finder’s fee you forgot to mention, Mr Reeves.”

“I didn’t forget. I just hadn’t got around to it. I’d run as high as five percent.”

\- _Five percent of forty-one thousand. -_ Although maths was not something he used daily to this extent, Jess was calculating rapidly. – _If 100 per cent is 41,000, then 1 percent would be 410. So five times that is something around 2,000 ... 2,000 dollars! –_

Having reached this conclusion, he turned eagerly, impatiently, to Slim. “That’s more’n enough t’ cover that new saddle Andy’s had his eye on, with plenty left over t’ get the breedin’ stock you’ve been wantin’.” He didn’t leave Slim time to find more objections. Instead he nodded firmly to the Sheriff and the Captain. “Let’s get started.”

Jess jumped to his feet, eager to take on this responsibility, especially if it saved Slim from having to act out a lie. Slim was still looking down, his face twisted and drawn, clearly unhappy. But it was too late to stop what was already happening.

Oblivious to the implications of asking Jess to assume a false identity, the Sheriff told him, “You’d better have a drink or two. We want the Judge to feel he’s in good company.”

**> >>>> * <<<<<**

Slim stood on the porch, gazing down the road to Laramie, where the dust had barely settled behind the departing deception party. There was nothing he could do. No way he could be useful. No point in riding along into town. Indeed, it would make things much more dangerous for Jess if he was seen in company with a respectable rancher, even if the said rancher was his boss, when he was trying to give a totally different impression.

“Quit worryin’!” Jonesy advised from beside him. “It ain’t gonna do either of y’ any good.”

“I know,” Slim admitted, stifling a sigh. “Just hope he can pull it off successfully, that’s all.”

“Oh, he’ll do it alright,” Jonesy said confidently. “Better’n you would, anyways.”

“Why’s that?” Slim was a little stung by being so quickly dismissed.

“He’s a better liar than you are.”

Jonesy limped back into the house, leaving Slim to his contemplations. They were not comfortable. He flung himself into the rocking chair, which protested creakingly. He rocked vigorously as if by doing so he could shake off his unwelcome thoughts.

\- _This isn’t the first time Jess’s put himself in danger for the sake of law and justice. He’s prepared to take risks, to pretend to be something he’s not if it gets results. Why would the Judge need a guide? If he doesn’t know exactly where the haul is buried, either they hid it in an almighty hurry or someone else stashed it and just told him the general location. Either way Jess has a hard task in his hands. What if the rest of the gang turn up? They didn’t hesitate to kill Smokey, so if they find out he’s lying ..._

_Lying! You just chewed Jess out over lying about a thief, but now it’s okay to lie to one? Does that mean there’s nothing wrong with lying to serve justice? And does the same go for lies told to protect people, like Jess lied to fool Stronberg? –_

Slim’s head was beginning to ache and so was his heart. Like many people who believe in absolute truth, he had always considered lying wrong - period. He believed he had managed not to do it himself – or so he thought - and he tried to keep Andy to the same standards, but in reality he had never faced a choice where lying might have good consequences. He realised that to get justice for his friend he had been willing to pretend to be something he wasn’t in order to deceive a drunken old man. He had thought nothing of it. Admittedly he wasn’t too sure he could mislead anyone so smart, but that had been the extent of his objection.

\- _Now you’re letting Jess tell the lies. Not stopping him. Because he’s better at it_. –

And then:

– _Does that make him a better man or a worse one? Does it make him an honest friend or not_? –

And whatever the answer to all these questions, the real truth was that he was going to be less than happy until Jess was safely back once more.

**> >>>> * <<<<<**

\- _He ain’t gonna make me smile! Let alone laugh! –_ Jess told himself sternly. The truth was that the Judge could be a thoroughly amiable and amusing companion. – _Yeah and for all he looks like an innocent old man, underneath he’s likely three steps ahead of whatever y’ thought y’ knew he was goin’ t’ do. Because he’s out t’ get that payroll an’ it’s a sure-fire bet he ain’t aimin’ t’ share it with anyone. One hundred percent is what he’s after! So keep y’ mind set on the five percent y’ earnin’ from the high an’ mighty Captain Reeves. Five percent f’ Andy’s saddle an’ Slim’s new stock an’ ...... wonder what Jonesy’d like? Sure like t’ see him take on the Judge! Reckon Jonesy’s the only one of us shrewd enough t’ out-think him. But they’re all relyin’ on you, and y’ve rubbed shoulders with enough rogues an’ rascals for some kind o’ cunning t’ have stuck t’ you. So use it! -_

**> >>>> * <<<<<**

“Best y’ git goin’ into town an’ find out what’s happening!” Jonesy admonished Slim as he sat for the second night in restless contemplation. “Ain’t no sense in frettin’ about Jess when y’ ain’t got any information. “

“You reckon?” Slim looked up hopefully. Then responsibility asserted itself. “I’m not leaving you to do all the work. There’s too much as it is.” – _Without Jess –_ remained unspoken. To compound matters, Andy too was away on a visit to a neighbour’s ranch.

“Go in th’evenin’,” Jonesy suggested. “Have a drink with that nice Captain Reeves. He’s a handsome fella.”

“What’s that got to do with it?” Slim asked, bewildered.

“Well, if y’ gotta pass the time, it might as well be with someone good t’ look at,” Jonesy replied with just a hint of a grin. – _Without Jess to look at_ – remained upspoken.

Slim shook his head, still baffled. “He might have some news. But I reckon Rob Bartlett’s more likely to know.”

“Y’ ain’t gonna find out unless y’ go.”

Late the following afternoon Slim rode into Laramie and left his chestnut at the Livery Stables. He wasn’t sure how long he was going to be or even what he might do next. Despite his reservations about leaving the relay station, at the back of his mind he knew that if Jess was in danger, he’d be on the trail quicker than anyone could say “stolen payroll”. Since the whole scheme had begun with the Sheriff’s request, he made his way to the office first and found Bartlett just locking up.

“Is he an unsavoury character?” Bartlett demanded without greeting or preamble.

“Who? The Judge?” Slim asked, thoroughly confused.

“No, your young friend, Harper,” the Sheriff replied. “You’d think he’d spent his entire life being thrown into jail for thieving and drinking.” He paused for thought, then added in tones of the uttermost gloom: “And worse, maybe.”

Slim was disconcerted, for he did not know how to answer this. He had no direct knowledge of Jess’s past, except that he had been on the drift for years. Certainly some of the characters who had arrived at the relay station looking for him left a lot to be desired. Jess said himself that members of the gang might have seen him when he’d ‘probably been doing something I shouldn’t’. On reflection Slim thought it likely the Texan had been behind bars before. Evidently Jess had some association with Stronberg and his gang, but equally evidently he had been on the side of the law in this recent encounter.

“You were glad enough of his help with Carlin and Stronberg,” Slim pointed out sharply. “And he’s just done a spell as Deputy in Rock Springs.”

“Just kidding, Slim,” Bartlett grinned. “I heard he did a good job as Deputy. Folks over there wanted to keep him for their Sheriff.”

Slim stared at him in more consternation. This simple remark placed him in a dilemma. He had not considered the lie Jess had told in relation to the reaction of other people who knew only the public story. What would happen if people discovered the truth?

\- _You said you were going to take a chance on him. You want him to stay. You want to trust him and for him to be trusted. You’ve seen how hard he’s fought on the side of the law. You know the respect he had for that Sheriff in Rock Springs. –_

“Guess their loss is our gain,” Bartlett continued blithely, totally unaware of Slim’s reaction.

\- _It was Jess’s decision to cover up for Hatch. He could have said nothing to anyone about what he’d done. He trusted you with the truth. It’s up to him who else he choses to tell. –_

“Yeah.”

\- _If someone asks me directly, I have to tell the truth. But what use would it be to change the story now? No help to Rock Springs and big trouble, perhaps, for Jess. Not that he can’t handle trouble. Jonesy says it’s his middle name. If it wasn’t, he wouldn’t be doing what he’s doing now. Nor would he be doing it if he wasn’t basically honest. And caring ... about Andy ... about the stock ... -_

“He’s a real useful man to have about,” Bartlett concluded. “Glad he’s on our side.”

“Yeah.”

“You coming over to the saloon, Slim? If we’re lucky Captain Reeves’ll stand us a drink.”

\- _The handsome Captain Reeves?_ – Slim felt Jonesy had somehow made him less keen on the company of the man, but it would be unmannerly to refuse.

“Yeah.”

“You got anything else to say?” Bartlett ribbed him. “If not, I’ll ask you to stand drinks for everyone tonight.”

Slim essayed a grin and shook his head. He followed Bartlett down the street and through the saloon doors. The usual stale air, redolent of lamp oil, beer, tobacco smoke and largely unwashed bodies rolled over them like an expected but not particularly cosy blanket. The usual jumbled rumble of voices, clinking of glass, click of dice, rustle of cards, scrape of spurs and thud of boots stuck their ears with equal familiarity. Slim might want to keep Andy out of saloons and hotels in town, but he had frequented both often enough himself. He wasn’t a big drinker or a gambler, but it was the place to meet other ranchers and traders and to exchange local news in more detail than could be found in the _Laramie Gazette_.

Reeves was ensconced in a corner, partly hidden behind a copy of the said newspaper. Bartlett took a good look round the saloon as they walked over and so did Slim. Laramie didn’t have a huge population and they could easily identify the regulars, some of whom called out to greet Slim. There were usually a few ‘birds of passage’, but these mostly kept to themselves unless they were invited to join a poker game. In itself that could be hazardous, at least for a man’s pocket.

This evening no-one looked suspicious or as if they were bent of getting news of the activities of a certain ex-member of a gang. Nonetheless, the three kept their voices low and their conversation as private as they could.

“Any luck?” Bartlett asked. He was a man who believed in going straight to the point without any preliminary civilities.

“Found a body,” Reeves replied laconically. “Shot in the back.”

Slim’s heart leapt into his mouth.

Reeves regarded him with a sardonic smile, so his reaction must have shown at least a little. “Not your boy,” the Captain told him. “He’s well able to take care of himself, by all appearances.”

“What might those be?” Bartlett demanded. “You haven’t been trailing on their heels, surely?”

“What d’you take me for? Some kind of amateur?” Reeves retorted, affronted enough to remind them of his Army status.

“Even the Army has to hire expert trackers,” Slim pointed out, not entirely tactfully. Something about Reeves was just needling him.

Reeves shrugged. “I’ve been after this lot long enough not to take any chances. They had no idea I was behind the ones who were behind our friend and the Judge.”

“If you found the body, I guess they’re not stopping to bury anyone!” Slim observed grimly. “So how does that place Jess and the Judge?”

Reeves shrugged casually. “I guess they’re safe enough till they find the loot and, like I said, the way your boy’s doing his guiding, no-one’s going to get the drop on him easily.”

“I sure hope you’re right!” Slim gave up trying to hide his concern. Reeves seemed determined that Jess was ‘his boy’, so Slim was going to own up to the responsibility and do his best to fulfil it.

“What I can’t understand is why the other gang members are following them,” Bartlett said. “Someone must know where the money’s hidden. Why don’t they just go ahead and get it?”

“If they did know, they wouldn’t bother following the Judge and Harper,” Reeves agreed. “They’d just kill them to stop them getting a share.”

“Whereas they seem to be killing each other,” Slim reminded them. “Like they’ve fallen out over the money before they’ve even got to it.”

“Not keen to split their percentage further,” Bartlett agreed.

“All the better for us, provided they leave the Judge alive,” Reeves said heartlessly.

“Did you bring the body in?” Bartlett asked, suddenly remembering the paperwork.

“Yeah, his horse hadn’t gone far, so it was no trouble. The body’s at the undertaker’s right now. Nice bounty for someone.”

“Only if they’re alive to claim it!” Bartlett grinned. “Could just be Harper riding back with the payroll under his arm and a pack-string of bodies behind him.”

Slim sincerely hoped so.

“So, you going out after them again?” Bartlett asked, sounding rather dubious.

“Sure am!” Reeves told them confidently. “I can pick up their trail easy enough, but they’ll be further on. I could do with a head-start in the morning. Reckon you could put me up overnight, Sherman?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think they headed out past my place.”

“No. I found a short cut on the way into town with the body. It’ll save me time in the morning.”

“I’m starting back right now,” Slim said, finishing the drink he had hardly touched during the conversation. “You need to get any gear?”

“Just my rifle. I’ll meet you at the Livery.”

Not long after, they were riding back through the dusk to the relay station. The road went up past the graveyard and as they came to the entrance, Reeves drew to a halt.

“One of them at least is joining your friend – Smokey was his name? A little vengeance for you.”

“I’d rather they were brought to justice,” Slim told him shortly. He looked out over the shadowy crosses and a few more recent mounds near the gate. He knew where Smokey lay, but his immediate concern was with the safety of the living, not the hold on his heart of the dead.

**> >>>> * <<<<<**

\- _What’s behind y’ is as important as what’s in front. That’s what Chris taught y’. An’ that single shot didn’t come from the same direction as where those two were huntin’. –_ Jess was riding with his eyes ostensibly on the terrain in front, but both eyes and ears were also alert for the least hint of danger on their tail. - _It’s gotta be Choctaw. The rest of them ain’t got the cunning nor the expertise t’ pick each other off silent and secret. More likely t’ get into a straight-up fight over who had the biggest steak off that calf. ‘Course, the Judge is stirrin’ ‘em up by soundin’ like he’s got more knowledge ‘n he has. He’s certainly got more brains. Like he’s really runnin’ the outfit and just usin’ the others. Probably knows Choctaw’s trailin’ us, pickin’ off each of them when they’ve done their bit. Which should mean we’re okay until we get near the end. Provided, o’course, Choctaw doesn’t decide it’s just the Judge he needs. Hell yeah, what’s behind y’ is just as important as what’s in front! An’ don’t forget what’s really behind all this. Gettin’ justice for Slim’s friend ...... –_

**> >>>> * <<<<<**


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

It was Jonesy, when he rose at dawn, who discovered the note from Reeves. He handed it without comment to Slim when he got up. Slim read it in silence. They looked at each other, neither quite hiding the disappointment, bordering on disgust, which the note provoked.

“Handsome is as handsome does!” Jonesy said, sardonic as usual, as he turned back to his kitchen.

Slim shrugged. “The Army’s able to commandeer stock if they need to.”

“One man after a payroll ain’t the Army!” Jonesy snapped back as he brought the coffee through.

“He thinks he is,” Slim said. “He reckons the Sheriff has to do things his way and he’s not in a hurry to take any advice.”

“So I noticed last night!” Jonesy slapped the pot down on the table so vigorously that the coffee slopped over. “Looks like he don’t really trust Jess after all.”

“Only one pot?” Slim tried to divert him.

“Jess ain’t hidin’ under the table,” Jonesy pointed out caustically. “An’ I just hope Reeves ain’t treadin’ on his tail either. Y’ve said often enough Alamo’s no easy ride, an’ besides he’s awful partial t’ bein’ alongside Zig.”

“I know –“ Slim began when Andy’s voice said firmly: “Traveller! And what’s this about Alamo?” He came out of the bedroom, yawning and rubbing his eyes, for he’d had an energetic few days, not to mention late nights, in the company of a school friend.

“Captain Reeves just commandeered y’ brother’s horse,” Jonesy told him bluntly.

“Why?”

“His own horse has done a lot of miles in the last week, Andy,” Slim explained. “He needed a fresh horse, the best and fittest we have, so he took Alamo.”

“Well, I suppose he can if you say so,” Andy said, with an irony of which he was quite unaware. He just knew how important a man’s horse was to him. “And what’s Jess doing? Is he helping the Captain?”

“Yeah, he’s helping to get back a stolen Army payroll,” Slim explained.

The word ‘stolen’ naturally rang alarm bells for Andy. “Will he be okay?” he asked anxiously, as recent events crowded back into his mind.

“Jess can take care of himself, Andy. You know that,” Slim told him firmly – and squashing his own fears equally firmly. “Now get on with your breakfast. We’ve a lot to do today.”

Andy looked hopeful, thinking of the way he’d helped with Jess with the herd and the fencing. “Okay. I guess Alamo will find Traveller easily, so they’ll both be alright!”

**> >>>> * <<<<<**

It was around noon when Alamo came into the yard, riderless. He ambled into his stall, looking as smug as a horse can look when it has shed its rider.

“What have you been up to, you old devil?”

Slim ran eyes and hands over the horse but could find no sign of injury. One rein was over his neck as if he had been hauled round in a sharp turn; the other must have snapped when he trod on it. Alamo was not distressed or done up and seemed untroubled by whatever had happened to ship his rider.

“Did you toss him off?” Slim asked, feeling a certain amount of justifiable smugness that Reeves had not been able to handle his horse, combined with justifiable irritation that he now had to replace a rein on the bridle. “And where have you left him?”

One thing was sure: Reeves was now afoot somewhere in close proximity to a ruthless bunch of outlaws. Slim scowled. It was Reeves’ insistence on following them which had landed him in this predicament. But there was no way Slim could just ignore the danger. He was going to have to pick up the trail himself and find out what was going on.

“Jonesy!” he hollered, not wanting to waste a second of the precious daylight which he would need to follow the trail.

“Yeah? What’s up?” Jonesy appeared at the kitchen door, a bowl in his hands.

“Alamo’s come back without Reeves. Throw together some supplies for me, will you? Enough for two of us for a day or so. And I may have an injured man to tend to, so whatever medicine and bandages you think I’ll need. Thanks.”

“Came off Alamo, did he?” Jonesy muttered to himself in regrettably pleased tones. He hastened to make the preparations, dumping the bowl of beaten egg whites on the dresser and sighing resignedly: “There sure is bound t’ be an emergency when y’ just at the trickiest part of cookin’!”

Cooking notwithstanding, Jonesy had food, canteens and a medical kit ready for Slim in short order. There was no miracle about this: the ranch was organised to be ready for emergencies and many of the needful supplies were already prepared. Slim was soon able to set out on his quest. He elected to ride Alamo, who was still looking as fresh as if he had not already had a morning outing. He knew the horse and the horse knew him. Alamo would recall the trail he had recently been ridden on, which would help Slim considerably in his task. Besides, as Andy had observed, Alamo would almost certainly find Zig if they got close enough and that meant Slim would find Jess, even if he had to keep cover and not interfere with Jess’s task. He debated taking a spare mount with him for Reeves, but since a led horse would slow him up and he had no idea if the man would be capable of riding independently, he decided they would have to double up and hope that they would not be hotly pursued. This seemed unlikely since the outlaws would be focused on forging ahead to obtain their loot, not chasing off stray riders.

By force of habit, he had already noted Alamo’s tracks where Reeves had ridden out before dawn. They were clear and easily followed, especially as Reeves was covering ground he had traversed with two horses the previous day on his ‘short cut’. He had made no attempt to hide his tracks, which was fortunate for Slim. He was able to ride swiftly and soon came to a point where the prints of Reeves on Alamo joined a trail on which there was evidence of a much larger number of horses. Slim was not particularly expert in tracking, but he was pretty certain there were at least six horses ahead of him.

This did not bode well, but he turned Alamo in the direction the riders had gone. Alamo seemed to recognise the trail too and headed eagerly to the left when Slim urged him. They did not travel as fast as before, however. Slim was not going to rush rashly into an ambush nor get entangled with the riders in front of him. He had no idea how far ahead they were, but if Jess was guiding their progress using his knowledge of the territory and whatever information he was being given, he and the Judge would be travelling slowly. Slim also had no idea if he was following one group or a number of individuals, each in pursuit of the leading pair. If he blundered into the outlaws, he could easily get Jess killed, never mind causing him to fail in retrieving the payroll. He rode quietly and steadily, keeping his eyes and ears open and receptive to any clue of what lay ahead.

The first hint of trouble came when Alamo whickered and was answered by another horse up ahead. Slim slowed his mount to a walk and advanced cautiously, rifle at the ready. The terrain here was woodland and light scrub, with plenty of clearings where a man might make camp – and also where he would make an excellent target. It was not long before he rode into one where a man had done both. A horse was standing hobbled in the shade of the trees at the edge of the clearing. There was evidence that someone had lit a small fire. Beside it was an ominous mound covered by a blanket.

Alamo was reluctant to approach the blanket. Slim dismounted and left his horse ground-haltered by the other one. He went over and lifted the blanket. Another outlaw, his throat cut this time. Slim frowned. Someone had wanted to kill quickly and quietly, which suggested they were not part of the main group, but trailing it secretly. It would pay Slim to be even more cautious, lest he run too close on the heels of someone willing to pick off their former friends one at a time. If they were as cunning as they appeared and detected his presence behind them, he ran the risk of riding into bullet or something equally damaging.

Continuing on again, he came eventually to a narrowing of the trail, where it led between a steep slope on the right hand and small cliff dropping away on the left. Even before he reached this spot, Slim could see ahead of him the gouged hoofprints where a horse had shied and swerved and turned to bolt back in the direction it had come. The direction he was travelling from. Almost before he had registered this, Alamo baulked and snorted, tossing his head as if warning his rider. The animal was obviously uneasy about proceeding any further. Slim agreed with him. It was an ideal spot for an ambush.

The ambush, however, had already taken place.

Slim drew to a halt, jumped down and dropped the reins to the ground. Alamo snorted again and danced a little.

“Easy, now, fella! Stay!” Slim put all the reassurance and command he possessed into his tone. Jess would undoubtedly have appreciated it considerably. Jess, however, was nowhere in the vicinity.

Slim advanced cautiously until he stood at the edge of the cliff. There was a drop of some twenty five or thirty feet, overhung in places and not sheer all the way since the last few feet spread out into a more gentle incline of sand and shale. At the foot of the cliff, partially hidden by the overhang, there was a body.

\- _Reeves!_ – Slim was torn between exasperation at the darned fool for running into exactly the situation Slim had been at pains to avoid and simple relief at finding him. – _If it’s not too late!_ – For he could see, even from above, that the ground around man’s head and shoulders was caked in blood and he lay awfully still.

Slim thought for a few minutes, because rushing to save him might easily turn out to be no help at all. If he got down to Reeves and moved him out from under the overhang in order to haul him up, he could not protect either of them from attack. They would be sitting ducks for anyone on the higher ground. All the same, it was a reasonable risk. Whoever had taken Reeves down had presumably left him for dead, whether he was or not. Once they had removed him from the hunt for the loot, they would have ridden on in pursuit of their prime objective and the others who were after it.

Having decided that he had no option but to go down and rescue Reeves, Slim set about careful and methodical preparations. He hobbled Alamo, because the chestnut was still nervous enough to bolt for home again and leave them both to walk. Then he fastened his rope to the nearest stout tree and dropped the end over the cliff. Hitching over his shoulder the medical pack Jonesy had made up and a canteen of water, he passed the rope round his body so that he could inch his way downwards.

Some minutes later Slim landed with a soft thump next to the injured man. He bend over to examine how bad the damage was and found himself facing the barrel of a gun.

“Reeves! You darned fool! It’s me, Slim Sherman.”

“Ugh!” The Army agent collapsed back, clearly exhausted by this effort of self-defence. “Nearly blew your head off!”

Since this was self-evident, Slim ignored the comment and said, “Let’s have a look at you.”

He rolled Reeves over on to his back and examined him for gunshot wounds. There was a great deal of blood in evidence, but Slim could see no corresponding bullet holes, just dark bruising and scrapes on his forehead and cheek.

“What happened?” he asked, thoroughly puzzled.

“Winged me. Clipped my ear. Bled a lot.”

“And the force knocked you over the cliff?”

“Your horse tossed me over the cliff!” Reeves complained.

“Probably saved your life,” Slim pointed out.

“Maybe. Hit the back of my head. Came to and tried to climb back. Fell and hit the front of my head! Decided to lie down for a while.” There was a wry humour in Reeves’ account but Slim was seriously concerned because the man had been knocked unconscious twice in a relatively short time.

“Okay.” Slim could see why the attacker had not bothered to go down and finish Reeves off. Fortunately for the Captain, he had been sheltered from a direct shot by the overhang of the cliff. “Let’s get you up to the top, then I can see how badly you’re injured.”

“I can climb!” Reeves insisted.

Slim ignored this. He encouraged the man to drink from the canteen, since he must be dehydrated, and cleaned him up as best he could. Then he set about making the slack of the rope into a secure harness around the injured man’s body. He used the taut rope to aid his own climb back up the cliff, after which he bent all his muscles and hauled strenuously until he had half dragged, half helped Reeves to the top.

Once he had got the Army agent back to relatively flat ground, Slim took stock of their situation. Reeves was still very groggy from hitting his head twice, although his other injuries were fairly superficial. He lay back on the flat turf with a groan and closed his eyes, obviously still feeling the double blow to the head. He did not look in any fit state to travel. Slim could take him double on Alamo, but it would be a lot easier if the man was rested before attempting the ride home, rather than risking him relapsing into unconsciousness again.

Slim came to a decision. “We can’t get back to the ranch in daylight, not riding double. Rest here. I know this territory and there’s a good place to camp not far ahead. I’m going to check that it’s safe.”

It was not long before he was back with positive news. With Reeves mounted on Alamo and Slim walking beside to steady him, they came shortly to a small hollow, sheltered by steep slopes and furnished with a little spring. To light a fire would be foolish, but Jonesy, with his usual practicality, had packed supplies they could use without cooking. As for bedding, Slim simply made sure that Reeves had most of the bedroll and kept only a single blanket for himself.

Rolling into the blanket but alert to the need to sleep lightly, Slim wondered where on the trail ahead Jess was sleeping and in what safety. But there was nothing he could do except guard himself and his companion and wait for the light of the new day.

**> >>>> * <<<<<**

\- _Sure feels strange without a gun an’ a belt t’ put it in ....... Ain’t ever lost it voluntary before, but it was the best call. Now we’re all equal. An’ y’ can find it easy enough on the way back without needin’ too much crawlin’ through the undergrowth. Not like when y’ took Slim’s rifle the first day y’ met him ....... now that was a nice thorny thicket! –_ A mischievous grin lifted Jess’s lips as it always did when he thought of that first encounter, but it was almost immediately followed by a heartfelt sight. – _We’ve gone through more fights an’ problems since then. Harder than bein’ tied t’ this darn’d tree! But good times too ...... Just gotta go on buildin’ the trust ...... trust is at the heart of it. Not like this bunch, willin’ t’ walk away from Marcy, leavin’ him lyin’ in his own blood. It cut deep t’ be part of that! But that’s what y’ gotta pretend, ‘cause there ain’t no-one cares except for what they can get themselves. They rob each other without givin’ a damn, like Dallas takin’ that pouch from the Judge ....... I wonder? I wouldn’t risk takin’ anything from the old man unless I knew for sure what it was ...... -_

**> >>>> * <<<<<**

A scream split the night.

Slim was on his feet in an instant, gun in hand. Reeves reared up a second later. He too had drawn his weapon.

Utter silence fell.

It was as if the shock, the violence, had stunned every living thing within earshot. There was an uncanny sense that the wild things all around knew more than the humans of what threatened and what had struck. Nature was transfixed. Nothing moved. Nothing breathed. Somewhere in the darkness, a fellow creature was dying. There was no doubt about it.

“That was no animal,” Reeves stated after a few minutes.

Slim nodded in agreement. “It came from up ahead.” His heart was stricken cold with dread that the sound might have issued from Jess’s throat, yet he did not wholly believe his own fear. Jess was tough and Slim had witnessed his endurance in the face of injury. He took a calming breath and said, “Sounded pretty bad, but there’s nothing we can do. We’d be blundering around in the dark with no real way of finding whoever it is.”

“Yes – and with a bunch of outlaws who don’t hesitate to kill anyone who gets in their way,” Reeves agreed.

They settled back down. Settled to a singularly uneasy sleep.

Morning found Reeves very much better than he had any right to be. He was also still determined to be in charge and have his own way. Slim was willing to bet that if he himself had not been very much on the alert, Reeves would have commandeered Alamo again and left Slim to fend for himself on his own two feet. As it was, the Army agent had no chance whatsoever of achieving this unless he was prepared to pull a gun on Slim. And by this time, Slim was beginning to suspect everyone – including a self-proclaimed Army Captain – of being motivated by greed on this convoluted hunt.

Reeves folded his arms and glared at Slim, realising that the young rancher was no pushover. “I want to find out what happened last night. For all we know, the yell was the death-throes of someone in a fight over the money they’ve recovered. If it was so, we have to stop them getting away with it.”

Slim scowled back. “That’s what Jess is there to do.”

“Single-handed? He’ll be lucky. Likelihood is it was his scream we heard.” Reeves was watching Slim closely with a mocking expression on his handsome face. “Don’t forget he’s only pretending to be an unsavoury character. The rest of them are ruthless killers and one of them is as wily as he’s dangerous.”

“Oh, I think he can hold his own,” Slim said softly. He was not going to be baited about his trust in Jess. He’d seen him act with courage, cunning and extreme stubborn determination. He’d put his faith in Jess’s ability to get out of trouble and finish the job, any day.

Reeves shrugged. “If you say so.” He clearly didn’t believe Slim, but was prepared to accept his company if he had to. “But we’re going on!”

Slim took stock of the terrain, then said thoughtfully, “That scream didn’t come from more than a couple of miles away or we’d not have heard it, even at night. It must have been somewhere down the valley. There’s a pattern to the way they’ve been riding – always following a valley or a ravine, never over the ridges or uphill.”

Reeves was not stupid, or only when he allowed himself to be ambushed. He remembered that Slim too knew the territory well. “You have an idea?”

“I don’t think we’re far from the hiding place now. You may not have noticed, but we’ve been crossing and following a lot of streams. My guess is that the loot’s buried somewhere close to water, maybe by one of the waterfalls. There are six or seven around here. We can follow the trail as far as the nearest, if that’s where it leads. Then we need to turn back. There’s a limit to how far Alamo can carry the two of us. Unless you want to stay on your own and walk home?”

“You’re the guide,” Reeves conceded. “Let’s go!”

Slim’s estimate of the distance was quite correct. It took them a little while, walking and leading Alamo so that he would be fresh enough to transport them both back to where they had left a riderless horse hobbled near the body of his rider. The tracks they were following had understandably thinned out by now. Slim was sure there were only three horses ahead. If there was lone killer shadowing Jess and the Judge, he was not following directly behind them. This was something of a relief as they themselves were less likely to get shot at. When Slim pointed this out, Reeves just grunted and remarked that once was enough.

The trail led straight to a third camp and a third body. They were in a densely wooded area and came upon the scene quite suddenly. This man was lying face down alongside a fallen tree trunk. There were no visible wounds to his back or limbs and it wasn’t until they rolled him over that it became obvious how he had died. His face was contorted, the pale skin blotched with a raised rash and his lips and tongue were swollen.

“Looks like snakebite,” Reeves said.

“Yeah, a rattler probably. There’s a couple of punctures on his wrist, right on the vein.”

“He must have panicked. Makes it worse if you run around.”

Slim gazed at the man with pity. “It doesn’t take long anyway. He must have known that. Looks like somebody tried to get the venom out for him, but it was too late.” He hoped it was Jess who had helped. In his heart he knew his ... friend ... would not leave a man, even an outlaw, to die in pain and fear.

Reeves shrugged. “He’ll have to stay here for now. Unless your animal can carry three of us.”

Slim ignored this. Instead, he looked carefully round the clearing for clues about who had camped there. “Here’s something odd.” He pointed to the base of one of the trees on the edge of the trail.

“Cut rope. Bits of rawhide.” Reeves bent and picked it up. “Damp. Nasty trick that.”

Slim nodded in agreement. Someone had had a narrow escape from death by slow strangulation. “There’s more here.”

“So, three men. Two tied up. One died of a rattler bite. He must have freed one of the other two to help him.”

A wave of relief warmed Slim’s heart. Two lots of cut rope argued that both captives had survived. And since the other members of the gang kept turning up dead, presumably the living escapees were Jess and the Judge.

There was nothing they could do about the dead man except leave him for collection later. Where his horse had got to was a mystery and a source of considerable annoyance to Reeves, who would have taken it and pressed on in the pursuit. As it was, they continued taking it in turns to walk, following the hoofprints of two horses, and shortly found their path led to the banks of a sizable stream, almost a river. The tracks went down into the water but did not emerge on the far side.

“What now?” Reeves demanded.

Slim shrugged. “No way of telling whether they went upstream or down, unless you fancy a long paddle and wet boots to walk home in. I’m not taking Alamo any further.”

“What about the waterfalls?”

Again Slim shrugged. “There are at least two upstream and another downstream which I know of. We’ve no way of telling which is the right one. If any of them are.”

“We’ve got to get that payroll!” Reeves snarled.

“Jess is going to get that payroll for you,” Slim told him levelly. “There are only two horses ahead, and since we haven’t found either of their bodies, it must be Jess and the Judge.”

“The Judge with a reputation for being one of the smartest thieves around,” Reeves retorted.

“You trusted this to Jess,” Slim reminded him. “And I’d back him for quick thinking and plausible improvisation any time.” He didn’t say ‘creative lying’, but it surely felt appropriate right now.

It was Reeves turn to shrug, but he could only admit that Slim’s judgement was logical. He was forced to agree they should start to make their way back to the ranch, which would be slow going until they got back to the spot where they had left the first dead man and his horse. They could not bring in that body or the most recent one they had found while they had only Alamo between them. Turning back, they rode double, keeping an easy pace to conserve the horse’s stamina.

The sun was well past noon already. It was the lower angle of its rays striking something metal combined with their slow riding speed which enabled Slim to spot the cache of weapons hidden just off the track. He pulled Alamo to a halt.

“Get down and have a look over there, will you?” he asked Reeves.

The Captain slid off Alamo, muttering as he did so, “Not more bodies, I hope!”

“It’s something metal,” Slim told him. “Over there, behind the fallen trunk.”

“Could be a buckle.” Reeves forced his way through the brush and heaved aside some fallen branches. “Yes, a gun-belt.”

Slim dismounted too and went over to help him disentangle the leather from the twigs which had been heaped over it.

“No, there’s two. And a shotgun.” Reeves handed the items out to Slim, before working his way back to the track. “Someone hid those carefully. There was no sign of disturbance where they must have got in and out.”

“Yeah, it was only the light which caught my eye and that was just chance. We’d never have found these otherwise.”

“But somebody meant to, or why hide them so carefully?"

Slim did not answer. He was turning one of the belts in his hands, smoothing a finger over the worn polished leather. “This is Jess’s.”

“You sure? One gun-belt’s pretty much like another unless you go in for fancy tooling to the leather-work.”

“I’ve seen it often enough!” Slim retorted. “Besides, his gun’s unique, made just for him. There isn’t another one like it.” In this he was actually wrong, because Chris Adams had had an almost identical one made at the same time; a part of his history which Jess was not about to share in the immediate future.

\- _What the hell would make Jess hide his gun like this? And should we put it back, in case he comes looking for it? Or should we take it, in case he doesn’t? –_

“Someone’s coming!” Reeves broke into Slim’s troubled thoughts.

They could hear several horses approaching rapidly though they were still hidden by the trees encroaching on the track. Before they had a chance to take cover, the riders were upon them.

Two ridden horses and a third carrying two bodies. Alamo gave an unexpected neigh of greeting and was answered at once.

“Been tidyin’ up after us, have y’?” Jess remarked, pulling Zig to a halt.

“What the hell made you get rid of your gun!” Slim snapped back, all the worry and tension suddenly overflowing his heart and mind.

“The alternative was gettin’ my head blown off,” Jess grinned as he dropped to the ground besides Slim. “Probably with the shotgun you’ve got there.”

“Anyone’d think y’ didn’t trust me,” his companion remarked sorrowfully from behind them.

“Only about as far as I can throw y’, Pop,” Jess replied laughingly. “An’ since y’ wouldn’t ever let me within arm’s length of y’, that ain’t very far.”

“Stands t’ reason,” the old man agreed.

Slim was taking in his first sight of the notorious Judge Barnaby Cade. He saw an unshaven old man in a high crown hat, frock coat and collarless shirt, all of which showed signs of recent contact with a lot of earth. He might be outwardly benevolent-looking, harmless even, but there was something shrewd and calculating in his gaze which gave Slim the feeling Cade was contemplating some devious and unpredictable action.

Reeves evidently felt the same. He glared at Jess and demanded: “Why haven’t you got him tied up?”

Jess gave him a hard look in return. “Because I ain’t done badly without, so far.” It was a pertinent reminder that Jess had not only achieved the objective of recovering the payroll, but had also survived a series of murderous attacks. He fished in his boot and produced a small gun. “This here’s the only weapon left and it’s loaded with two bullets this time, so I get two shots at the Judge if need be.”

“Son, from what I’ve seen of y’, y’ ain’t gonna need but one,” Cade told him. “An’ I ain’t forgettin’ that.”

“Good,” Jess responded briefly.

Reeves turned away from them, eager to investigate the sacks slung from Zig’s saddle. “Is this it? I’m gonna check it’s all there.”

Jess shrugged. “Help y’self. Been nothing but trouble an’ destruction all along.”

Meanwhile Slim was examining the two bodies. “Who’s the second one?”

Jess reached out and laid his hand on Slim’s shoulder. “Choctaw Johnson.”

Slim gulped and took an involuntary step backward. Jess’s hand, firm on his shoulder, steadied him.

“D’you kill him?”

“No,” Jess told him softly. “No, I’d’ve tried t’ bring him back. T’ get justice for your friend.”

“For Smokey.” Slim’s head bowed for a moment and the two of them stood close together in silence.

Presently Slim stirred and the vestige of a smile touched his lips. “I guess you didn’t much like relying on that little derringer? Better have your own gun back.” He was still holding Jess’s gun-belt and automatically reached round the other man’s waist to fasten it in its proper place on those lean hips. Jess’s hands came down on Slim’s and took over fastening the buckle. Then he looked up, his eyes glinting as they held Slim’s.

“Thanks!”

As Jess raised his head, Slim could see the bruising making a narrow line round his throat. He lifted a tentative finger and traced it with the lightest touch.

“Rough night?”

“Yeah.”

“You had to watch him die?”

“Yeah.”

“There’s nothing you can do for a rattler bite. Not where it got him.”

“That don’t make doin’ nothin’ any easier.”

“I know.” A sudden impulse to enfold Jess in a comforting hug swept over Slim. Just as swiftly he checked his instinctive move, turning it instead into a hearty pat on the shoulder. Jess’s eyes brightened again before he looked down, concealing whatever reaction he had had.

“It’s all there!” Reeves sounded triumphant as he broke into their privacy. “Let’s get going!”

Jess’s head snapped back up. For a moment, Slim thought he might challenge Reeves to at least acknowledge who had done the work of recovery and make him admit Jess had given satisfaction in achieving what he had been asked to undertake. – _Satisfaction again! But this kind isn’t what I meant at all. Not sure if Jess understands that. -_

Jess just shrugged, seemingly indifferent to Reeves’ behaviour, and turned away to mount Zig. 

“You’d better double with me,” he told Reeves. “I weigh less ‘n Slim and my horse is fresher. You’ll be closer to the loot too.”

The sarcasm passed right over Reeves.

“I’ll double with the Judge. That way he’s not going anywhere except back to Laramie.”


	4. Chapter 4

#  **4**

“We’re not going to make Laramie in daylight,” Slim pointed out irritably as Reeves tried to push them on at a faster pace. “There’s no point in thrashing the horses, it’ll only make us slower tomorrow.”

“We can’t be far from the place there was the first body and a horse,” Reeves replied impatiently.

“That would be old Marcy,” the Judge rumbled reminiscently. “Never did think he was one to go far in life.”

“It’s a good place to camp,” Jess put in. “If y’ don’t mind dead bodies, that is.”

“Looks like we’ll just be addin’ him to our collection,” the Judge said cheerfully.

No-one was very keen on the thought of spending the night in the company of three corpses, but they had little option if they were to close the said corpses’ account with justice. When shortly they reached the clearing where the horse was still grazing, it was already dusk. Slim and Jess at once dismounted and began to settle their horses for the night, before setting up camp.

“We gonna sit here all night?” the Judge inquired of Reeves. “I ain’t partial t’ bein’ put t’ work after all that diggin’ I done this morning, but you’re young enough t’ lend a hand.”

“We’re not sitting anywhere except in the saddle!” Reeves retorted. “I’m riding the fresh horse, loading up the money and taking you in to jail. The others can follow with the bodies tomorrow.”

“Oh no y’ don’t! I ain’t lettin’ y’ out of my sight till we get that finder’s fee,” Jess told the Army agent flatly.

“You think you can stop me?”

“If I have t’. But don’t make me draw on y’.”

“Sure, go ahead, Mr Reeves. Make ‘im draw,” the Judge chortled. “That boy’s faster with his gun than a rattler can strike. An’ he hits whatever he aims for!”

“Reeves, it would be madness to try to ride on in the dark,” Slim said reasonably. “For a start, you’d have to lead the Judge’s horse unless you want to risk him making a break for it. And he’d be a sight closer to the money than I’d like him to be.”

“Yeah. Don’t underestimate the old man,” Jess agreed wryly. “If I had a dollar for every trick he knows, I wouldn’t be needin’ a finder’s fee.”

The Judge shook his head in sorrow. “I just can’t understand what you’ve got against me, boy. I’ve been like a father to y’.”

Jess stiffened involuntarily. His fists clenched and his eyes narrowed. “That’s truer than you know!” he growled. In reality his relationship with the Judge had been an improvement in some ways and as they’d ridden together and overcome the dangers and difficulties thrown at them, he’d asked himself once again: - _You gotta thing for older men?_ – At least in this instance his ability to get on with them had made handling the Judge a sight easier, but Cade’s comment stirred up memories he thought were safely locked away. He turned briskly back to the business of getting a fire going so they could have some hot food. Whatever else tasted sour, food was always a comfort.

There were a few minutes more stand-off before Reeves climbed down, literally and metaphorically, and silently helped them create a camp. The Judge got off the horse stiffly and limped over to the fire, taking the kindling which Jess had gathered and patiently feeding the flames until he could add the larger wood. When there was a steady glow going, Slim balanced the pans on the flat stones Jess had arranged round the firepit and they all settled down to wait for the food to heat up.

“Now I call this real nice and friendly,” the Judge observed genially, once they were busy tucking into the food. “Never thought I’d be sittin’ down to a meal with law-abidin’ hosts.” He pointed his knife at Jess and added, “ ‘Specially as this young fella claims t’ be a friend of the Laramie Sheriff.”

Startled by this, Slim echoed abruptly, “A friend of the Sheriff?” A frown creased his forehead and something jabbed at his heart. - _Surely Jess only met Bartlett twice before taking this job? Hardly the basis for a friendship. Not like months at the ranch. Did I do such a good a job of driving him away?_ -

“Just tryin’ t’ make sure y’ knew I had the law backin’ me,” Jess said easily. “Didn’t reckon you’d understand any other kind o’ friendship.”

“Could be right there, son,” the old man admitted frankly. “Guess I’m a mite too fond o’ money t’ want friends stickin’ round for very long.”

“Good. Sooner we part company the better!” Jess told him.

“Don’t take it personal,” the Judge protested. “Reckon we made a good team, even if y’ are inflicted with that mean little streak o’ decency.” He grinned at the other two and went on, “This here honest fella took me in like a professional liar. Nearly as good as me. Didn’t see through him, even though he was the only one o’ the whole bunch pretendin’ to be something he ain’t.”

This cheerful statement struck Slim forcibly. He knew Jess was decent and honest, but hearing it stated by a man who had actually been deceived by him did much to relieve Slim’s own misgivings. Jess would do whatever was needed to complete a task of justice, even at the cost of appearing to be dishonest. Slim, who was equally set on justice, would have achieved the same ends but in a different way. – _Who’s to say which of us is right? Or maybe it’s both ..._ -

“I reckon most of your friends end up dead,” Reeves commented, with a jerk of his head to the three bodies resting tidily on top of a rocky outcrop nearby.

“Ain’t nothin’ t’ do with me,” Cade insisted calmly. “Only one I killed was Choctaw an’ that was only because he was threatenin’ t’ shoot me and young Jess here.”

“Saved my life,” Jess agreed. “But only because I showed y’ where the derringer was. And what about Dallas?”

“Dallas just got the rightful reward f’ pickin’ a man’s pocket.”

“Yeah, don’t try seachin’ the Judge or pattin’ him down,” Jess told them. “It can be real risky.”

“What about the risk tonight?” Reeves asked. “Any more of your gang around?”

“Well, let’s see. Two of them died way back when we held up the train. Rickert took a bullet. Marcy had his throat cut. A snake finished off Dallas. Choctaw surely got what was comin’ to him ‘cause he was a trigger-happy bastard who liked killin’.” The Judge paused reflectively, as if counting in his head. “Nope. I reckon that’s the lot. No-one else lurkin’ around. You can sleep sound.”

“If any of us are going to have a chance of sleep, I reckon we should still keep watch,” Reeves said determinedly. “We may only have you left, Cade, but you’re more trouble than a bag full of monkeys.”

“Make that slipperier than a bag full o’ snakes,” Jess corrected. He yawned mightily and added, “I don’t mind takin’ the last watch.”

“I’ll do the middle one,” Slim put in. He preferred to hand over to Jess, though he could not have said why.

“Fair enough,” Reeves agreed. “I still think we should tie the Judge up.”

“Spent all last night tied to a tree!” Cade objected. “You ain’t gonna submit an old man t’ that again, are y’?”

“Take his boots,” Jess suggested. “An’ his belt an’ braces. Hang ‘em on a high branch he can’t reach. He won’t get far without them.”

“You sure are one devious son of a coyote!”

“Go t’ sleep, Pop, and say a prayer o’ thanks before y’ do that I saved y’ from bein' tied up!”

It was late into Slim’s watch when he heard a muffled groan. Jess was shifting restlessly in his blankets. He was lying, as always, almost face down. His arms were flung out above his head and his hands clenched against the ground, tearing up the grass in a sudden strong convulsion.

Slim got up and moved to kneel beside the younger man. Jess was obviously still deeply asleep, but very softly another groan came, then muttered speech.

“No! ...... I ain’t gonna ....... Y’ can’t make me ...... I won’t!”

Again he shifted as if in distress. He sounded so young, so vulnerable and stubborn at the same time. Slim stretched out a hand but hesitated to touch or wake him. He had no idea what Jess was dreaming about but whatever it was, Slim could feel the pain radiating from him.

Then there came another moan and more words.

“Ain’t nothin’, Fran ....... I tell y’ it’s nothin’ .....”

Jess sighed. His hands unclenched. He seemed to fall into some less tortured dream. Slim stayed watching over him until his knees began to hurt. Then he returned to his post until it was time to wake Jess to take his turn and keep the deadman’s watch.

**> >>>> * <<<<<**

Noon the next day saw them riding into the relay station. They had left at first light and ridden at as fast a pace as the laden horses could bear. No-one could expect any horse to carry more than two adult bodies, so Reeves was still having to ride double with the Judge until unexpectedly the loose horse caught up with them. Its bridle was missing, so it had probably got tangled up somewhere, but they were able to improvise a hackamore temporarily. Reeves and the Judge parted company thankfully.

The latter was vocal in his surprise at how soon they had reached the immediate vicinity of Laramie. “Seems t’ me we got home awful quick. Though you said we was a hundred miles away?”

To which Jess simply replied, “Just shows y’ can’t trust everythin’ your guide says. Besides, streams go in all sorts of directions.”

“Like you?”

“Like we travelled a hundred miles, only not in a straight line.”

“Guess y’ll always be one t’ pick y’ own direction. Am I right?”

“Y’ sure ain’t right about everything, old man, but – yeah, I like t’ be my own boss.”

The same statement Jess had used before. Slim heard it with rising doubt. Jess was on the right side of the law now and, adding to this his service as Deputy in Rock Springs, he might easily have offers from elsewhere. - _Offers more attractive than trying to help prop up a struggling ranch_. -

Once back at the ranch, after rapturous greetings from Andy who was never entirely sure Slim and Jess would both return safely, the party stopped to refuel with the hearty meal Jonesy provided for them. It proved difficult, in the end, to establish any wrongdoing against the Judge. On the contrary, he had actually put a halt to Choctaw Johnson’s depredations and saved Jess’s life into the bargain. Since the payroll had been returned intact to the relevant authority, there was no actual proof that Cade ever intended to do anything else with it. And he was cunning enough – and no doubt broke enough – to claim the bounty for turning in the bodies of his former friends. This required help from Jess in formally identifying them, so the whole party needed to go into Laramie itself.

To this end, the bodies were loaded on to the wagon. Reeves retrieved his horse and, since the Judge still owed Jess the price of the horse he had been riding, they both mounted the wagon. Slim hung back, knowing full well he had no further part to play.

“Seems t’ me Jess is goin’ t’ need some back-up,” Jonesy observed. “He’ll have his hands full with drivin’ and I wouldn’t trust Cade even with his hands tied, which they ain’t seein’ as how he’s managed t’ escape all the charges. Best you get up on that wagon and go with them.”

“You sure you can cope another day?” He might have no part to play, but Slim wanted to see this through to the end with Jess.

“Jonesy and me’ll be fine!” Andy asserted. He was proud of how they had coped on their own and was ready to take responsibility again if he was needed. He sensed too that Jonesy wanted Slim to go into town, although he could not have said why.

The why did not become apparent until all the official legal business in the Sheriff’s office had been completed, the Judge had been seen off from town on the last stage of the day and congratulatory drinks had been exchanged in the saloon. Only when Slim and Jess were on their way home did the need become compelling.

Long shadows of evening were falling across the road when the wagon drew level with the Laramie cemetery. Jess was driving. He pulled the team gently to a halt and turned to Slim.

“Reckon y’ have a visit t’ pay.”

Slim looked at him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. He got down from the wagon and opened the graveyard gate. He knew all too well where Smokey was buried, even though he had never returned in the three years since he stood at the edge of the grave and heard the earth rattling on the coffin of his friend.

Now he stood once more in the gathering dusk, looking down smooth grass where the earth had settled back. He stood still, silent, caught by a heartache which he thought he had travelled far beyond. Feelings, emotions, should surely have been put behind him? All that ought to remain was the carved headstone.

“I remember thee and the kindness of thy youth. Jeremiah Chapter 2 Verse 2.”

The voice was low, rough with emotion, but reverent. It was not his own.

Slim did not need to turn to know Jess was standing close beside him at the foot of the grave. After he had read the epitaph, Jess said nothing. He simply stood with Slim, quietly, patiently, as if they had all the time in the world to be here, with Smokey.

“He was kind. Took me under his wing. In the troop. Made sure I understood orders. What to do. What not to do. He called it service. He was good at serving others.” Slim’s words came clipped and cut down by the overwhelming force of grief. “He came north. When he quit the army. To Laramie. Because we were friends. Got a job with the Overland. It was his first run.”

It felt as if a mighty hand had seized Slim’s heart and was squeezing out of it all which logic and reason had tried to ignore. A deep, bone-wrenching shudder went through him and his breath choked in his throat. In the same instant, he felt two strong arms go round him, holding him powerfully, safely, kindly.

When he was able to move again, Slim knew with a certainty that this sharing of grief had given him part of his heart back. He would be at peace at last about the manner of Smokey’s death and could turn his whole heart to learning to trust a living man as he deserved. Trusting the one who was alongside him not just standing by a grave, but riding, working, eating, sleeping, joking – sharing in all the ordinary and essential things of life.

His friend said quietly, “Let’s go home.”

* * *

This story develops the episode _The Lawbreakers_ and it is acknowledged that some detail of dialogue and action is drawn from it. We do not find out much about Reeves in the episode, so in this story he is less likeable but more distinctive. As regards time and distance, in the episode Jess and the Judge do appear to be travelling pretty slowly as they try to find the right route and also they spend time arguing with the other outlaws, hunting, etc. In the story, Slim and Reeves, on the other hand, make use of a short cut and can travel much more speedily because they are only following the others.


End file.
